A Wolf In The Kraken's Lair
by justareader13
Summary: Theon and Robb have a complicated relationship but honest, Theon would rather he just die. Except the times when he doesn't.


**Warnings:** some Dom/Sub undertones, allusions to noncom (not between Theon/Robb)

 **Note:** This is set in an AU where the Greyjoy Rebellion happens at a later date. It starts when Robb is 12 and ends when he is 16. It is successful in part because Robert finds out about Cersei/Jaime's secret, throwing the six kingdoms into disarray and allowing the Iron Islands to successfully win their independence.

* * *

It started off as a bet, a joke between him and his brothers (mostly his brothers).

Father was getting more and more annoyed by Lord Stark's willful pup. Theon secretly thought King Balon should've just killed Robb Stark long ago if he hadn't wanted to deal with such a problem. Theon knew better than anyone else on the Iron Islands what kind of man Stark was. He was self-righteous and full of himself and his stupid, noble sense of duty and honor. He would not sit demurely and act a part. He had warned his father as such but his father's response was to throw back in Theon's face that he had been Stark's prisoner once upon a time because he was too weak. Because he surrendered to him in battle. Because he did not lay his life down like a true Ironborn would have, so he was not worthy to voice his opinions to his father as if he were a real man. Thus, Robb Stark remained alive on the Iron Islands as "a ward". More like a prisoner of war. The Starks most probably knew that and so they did not act against the newly liberated kingdom, not least of all because they were still in open conflict with the Lannisters alongside that fat oaf on the Iron Throne who the golden cunts cuckolded. That was until they ended up in open conflict with Baratheon too. Something about a hidden prince and Stark's dead aunt. Theon didn't know, he didn't care about the family drama kicking up between the great houses of Westeros. He just knew he would rather Robb Stark be dead.

He did not like Stark, he hadn't liked him during the war when he had to hear stories of the barely grown boy who got the nickname The Young Wolf off the bodies of innumerable Ironborn. He didn't like him when he was his prisoner and Stark insisted on talking to him almost every night. First it was mostly interrogations on his part and then he would just speak to him like Theon was his friend, like Theon cared that Stark missed his mother and sisters and younger brothers. Like he cared that Stark worried constantly over his bastard brother and father every time they were on the battlefield. Like he cared that Stark felt conflicted about the men he killed, that he dreamed of them at night. Theon would tell him war is war and men die, there was no need to cry over it like a bloody woman. Stark would retort that his sister Arya would have no such conflict for all she was nearing her transition from girl to woman and then he would proceed to try to convince him that his own men were worth lamenting but Theon largely dismissed him. He was a child, 8 years Theon's junior. What did he know of war, 16-year-old Robb Stark who sounded as if he spent too long hiding behind his mother's skirts? But Stark made Theon think too much, made him feel... strange. He didn't like it, it'd be better for Stark to be dead and gone. Uncle Harlaw said Robb Stark yet lived because his father was a fool who didn't remember that naught but turnips grew on the Iron Islands and alliances and trade need be made, so Maron and Rodrik kidnapped the heir to Winterfell and blackmailed a trade agreement and alliance out of the North to partly correct his father's folly.

Robb Stark had been on the Islands for almost a year now and was still as wild as ever. He was mostly locked away, only interacting with the family when father pulled him out like a prize before the Islanders. The lordling's rowdiness and defiance only seemed to make his father happier in public and he and his men made their jokes about it. In private, his father complained about him constantly. He fought against his guards, he would try to refuse food until it was forced on him, he bit people, hit people, talked back, threatened and insulted anyone who came to his rooms. Maron and Rodrik, who never respected their father very much, thought he was going about it wrong. He shouldn't be giving Stark a room to his own or food or clothes or allowing him luxuries such as baths and free reign of his own quarters, they thought he should be locked away, tortured to compliance. Father wouldn't listen but that didn't mean his brothers wouldn't still try to enact their ideas in some capacity or other. Theon hadn't cared very much, he didn't think the direwolf should be here among krakens but his brothers had decided to try to tame the beast.

Theon had not involved himself in the beginning. He had better things to do, whores to visit. Yara was the one that told him the situation had devolved and led to multiple altercations between the hostage and his brothers. Even then, Theon didn't care. It wasn't until his brothers challenged him to try his hand at taming the wolf that he did.

He had always wanted to impress his brothers but he had never quite managed it. He was always the runt, the youngest boy among his siblings, Asha being the only child younger than him. His mother kept him close as a young boy, coddled him and loved him as her favorite. That pushed him away from his brothers all the more. He was closer to Yara and Asha than he was to his brothers and that alienated him most of all. Rodrik and Maron saw people, especially women, as possessions and beneath them. Theon didn't think his view of things was much different. He was a prince, before that he was the son of the Islands' Lord Paramount. He acted better than others because he was better than them. It was just a fact. But his sisters were different. They weren't just anyone. Yara could best all of the boys in hand-to-hand combat, she was smarter than the three of them put together and better at commanding men. Asha, though only ten and three, had salt-water in her veins. Her skill on water would soon be unsurpassed. Asha was also the most beautiful of them. She was the child of their father's salt-wife, not his true wife. She had been a beautiful woman and Asha had taken from her looks. Theon had caught Maron staring at her lustfully more than once but Yara would usually cut those looks short with a glare so Theon never worried. Maron would find his manhood at the end of a knife if he pushed his luck.

When Maron implied that he had used force to try to tame the Young Wolf, Theon wasn't shocked and a part of him did not care. Robb Stark was his enemy. He remembered the man on the battlefield, he was young but he cut through Islanders like it was sport. Him and his father and his bastard brother and their bloody beasts. Theon didn't care if he lived but at the same time Maron could be cruel, crueler than even some of the most devout Drowned Men could stomach. Stark would probably find his end if he defied Maron's advances one too many times and that would suit the Islands ill. So, when Maron went to Stark's room Theon found himself following and keeping watch over their interaction. It was as he suspected. Maron tried to force himself on Stark and was viciously rebuffed. It amused his brother in the beginning before quickly annoying him. Theon did not make his presence known until Maron drew his knife on the younger boy.

"Maron." He said, announcing himself as he pushed the door open. Maron turned to look at him with a scowl while Stark glanced at him, his eyes blown wide with what looked like surprise. Theon ignored him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, nodding towards the knife in his brother's hand.

"The Young Wolf here has refused to eat his lunch, I came to help him along. Mayhaps his mouth is a bit too small for the food to fit. I shall enlarge it for him." He replied, his scowl turning to a cruel smile.

"Father wouldn't like that." Theon pointed out, a frown on his face. Maron gave him a mocking smile.

"Do I look as if I give a damn what Father would want?"

"If I were you, I would. Besides, you're more likely to fall on the knife yourself than do him any damage. I can smell the ale off you from down the hall."

"Not that you'd be able to do anything to me." Stark mumbled behind Maron.

"Is that a challenge?" Maron said with anger and indignation in his voice.

"Nay, it's a fact." Stark replied, a wild smile on his face.

"Hey, shut up." Theon ordered him. Stark frowned at him but surprisingly held his tongue.

"Uncle Euron wants you." Theon announced before Maron could say anything else. That lie got his attention.

"What does Crow's Eye want from me?" He asked, some nervousness seeping into his voice. Theon could understand the sentiment. He thought his Uncle Aeron was crazy but Euron took the cake, cut it's tongue out, raped it and then killed it in sickening fashion. He wasn't even supposed to be on the Islands after Father banished him for what he did to Uncle Victarion's wife but he had paid no heed to it and his insanity had warded off Father's protests for now.

"Do I look as if I give a damn what he wants from you?" Theon replied, throwing his brother's words back in his face. It was a dangerous game to play with him. Robb Stark snorted something like laughter behind his brother. Theon shot him a glare as Maron stiffened with barely concealed anger. Theon would likely meet his vengeance soon enough thanks to Stark. The boy had the nerve to smirk in reply to Theon's look.

"Are you going or not? I'm sure he's ecstatic to have to wait for you." Theon told his brother. Maron sheathed his knife and threw a look back at Stark.

"Until next time." He promised, strutting out, knocking his broader shoulder into Theon's on his way. Theon watched him leave before turning to Stark who stood in the room almost awkwardly watching him with an intense look in his eyes.

"Things would be a lot easier if you just listened, you know." Theon said, cutting to the chase. He didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be.

"If your brothers wanted a docile pet, they shouldn't have kidnapped me." Stark retorted.

"Maybe not but do you really think your family wants to hear that you're dead thanks to your stubbornness?" Theon countered. Stark's sense of honor and duty, especially to his family was an easily exploitable weakness. He noticed conflict immediately alight his face.

"I don't think they'd want to hear about me being a spoil of war for your brothers to rape as they please either."

"True. You'd gather their attention a lot less if you ate and didn't fight so much though."

"Is that what you did when they went after you as a child? Did you just stay silent and hoped it would end?" Theon felt himself stiffen at that.

"I remember you mentioned your relationship with your brothers wasn't like mine and Jon's when I told you I worried for him on the battlefield." Theon had made a throwaway comment ages ago. He didn't know why Stark should remember it.

"No, it wasn't. I know them better than you do. Just lay low. Help yourself out and save me the headache." Stark stared at him silently but there was an air of defiance still hanging over him. Theon rolled his eyes. This wasn't his bloody problem, he didn't kidnap Stark and he certainly didn't advocate keeping him as a prisoner. What was the point of inserting himself into this mess? If Yara wanted something done about their brothers' behavior, she could bloody do it herself. He turned to walk towards the door without another word but stopped as Stark called to him.

"Greyjoy."

"What?" Theon replied, not turning around.

"Just... I'm glad you're not dead."

"What?" Theon repeated, turning slightly to face the other man. He wasn't looking at him and was wringing his fingers almost nervously.

"I hadn't heard anything about you in the past year. I thought you might've died during the Rebellion. I'm glad you didn't."

"Why?" Theon asked incredulously. Stark glanced off to the side, not meeting his gaze. Theon waited a moment more for an answer before giving up.

"Whatever." He mumbled, stalking out of the room past the guard assigned to Stark. He resolutely decided to shake off the strange encounter and not get involved again.

That wasn't exactly how it panned out. Theon found himself often following his brothers during their trips to see Stark and ended up supervising the visits. It galled a part of him that he was reduced to a glorified babysitter but when he complained about it to Yara she would just tell him that she never actually asked him to do anything about the situation, she was just informing him on what was going on. Asha was equally unsympathetic.

 _'If you don't want to see him, then stop going to his room. If you don't care, stop following after the dickheads. It's that simple.'_

Uncle Harlaw's reply was to tell him unequivocally to not stop following the boys and to monitor the situation closely as he did not want to be involved in yet another rebellion on account of his idiot, upstart father and his insane brothers and sons. So, Theon continued to visit Robb Stark's room and even though he would try to avoid it, he did talk to him. Mostly he snapped at him to fall in line, do what his brothers and fathers said, but Stark would refuse and then say something that made Theon uncomfortable or confused and so he would leave him.

Theon wasn't sure exactly how it changed, wasn't sure what it was that brought it about but he remembered that they were arguing about something again. Theon might've said something about one of Robb Stark's family members, maybe the redhead sister. Something about how his brothers should've taken her because at least there'd be something fuckable to make all the trouble worth it. Stark had surprised Theon with a swift smack to his face, leaving his cheek stinging and disbelief swelling in him. Stark had gone for a second smack but he had grabbed his wrist to stop him. Stark had fought against his grip and ended up standing close to Theon, his body pressed against him, and then Stark had kissed him. Theon was shocked and immediately pulled away before punching Stark across the face, and pressing him against a wall with his arm against his throat. He wasn't sure what madness possessed him to not kill Stark and to instead kiss him, to throw him onto the hard bed and rut against him until they both came.

He tried not to go back after but something came over him, a spell or a curse he couldn't tell, but it made him want Stark. Want him in a way that whores couldn't quell, female or male, and so he went back to him. It was intoxicating and tumultuous because Stark was just as defiant here as he was in everything else. One second all he wanted was for Theon to kiss him and touch him and hold him. He wanted to lay down in Theon's arms and trail his fingers across his chest and back and say nothing at all. But he was never like that too long. Other times, he provoked Theon. He hit him, goaded him and insulted him so he would react violently against him which would make Robb react violently too before they fucked harshly. But Theon understood why that was, he understood Stark even if he didn't want him to or he didn't understand it himself.

They were laid out in Stark's bed right now. Stark laid under him naked, his arms and legs tied to the bedposts and glistening with sweat and other drying bodily fluids after their time together. Theon pressed him into the mattress, gazing down at Stark's blissful expression. Theon had made that happen. He still wasn't sure if he liked it. If he ever wanted to be seen as a real man before then, Stark had ruined that for him. Rodrik and Maron teased him near constantly about his relationship with Stark. Even Yara and Asha got a real laugh out of it, referring to Stark as his "salt-wife" teasingly but surprisingly, none of them informed their father about it, only saying that Theon had some sort of control on the boy and so he became his official babysitter. It gave him more time with Stark, more time to understand the nuance behind his actions towards Theon, why he was the way he was.

"You look like a whore." Theon remarked, staring down at him. There were lovebites all over his skin and he was still flushed and halfway hard.

"What's that say about you?" Stark replied, nonplussed about the insult. Theon had called him far worse before.

"That I'm a whoremonger but everyone knows that. It's not exactly something that's going to keep my father up at night but if your father, your precious Lord Eddard Stark, could see you now what would he think? What would he think about his son, his heir, gagging on my cock an hour ago? Begging me to fuck him like he was going to die if I wasn't inside of him? Begging me to come insi-" Theon was cut off as Stark bucked under him, seemingly trying to free his limbs to hit him in retaliation. It caused a laugh to fall off Theon's lips.

"I hate you." Stark hissed at him, more like a snake than a wolf. Maybe he was part Martell rather than Tully.

"You don't hate me, you love me." Theon said with amusement. The words were out of his mouth before he even truly knew what he was saying but they were right. Stark had said it to him before during the throes of passion, when Theon was so deep inside of him he couldn't feel anything but Robb. Theon never said it back and they never talked about it after. The curly haired boy gave him a withering look that was somewhere between a glare of loathing and a look of longing. Gods, he was easy.

"Shut up." He replied through grit teeth.

"You do. You love me. 'So much it hurts' is what I believe you said." Theon pushed, still not entirely sure why. Maybe because it amused him that this boy who should really know better had let himself fall for Theon in whatever capacity. Maybe because, and he would never admit this, it made him feel... something. The feeling wasn't entirely warm, wasn't something that was pure or wholesome. In truth, it made him want to fuck Stark in everyway he could until he couldn't walk or talk, and Theon didn't have to hear him profess his love for him (more like for his cock but Stark was young, probably couldn't tell the difference yet.) Still, Theon liked it. If he were honest, he liked the level of control he had over Stark where everyone else failed. His brothers and father couldn't control Stark, his sisters and uncles couldn't but he could. Theon could control him and furthermore Stark wanted him and not the others and he wasn't paid to want him. If he said that didn't make him feel good, he'd be lying.

He leaned down to push his lips against Stark's softly. Stark responded for a moment before Theon felt the sharp pain of his teeth sink into his lips. He drew back, brushing his fingers against his mouth to find blood there. He looked down at the other boy with shock and anger. He stared back at him with a satisfied look before his knee came up suddenly and roughly hit Theon's groin. He gasped from the pain, the anger quickly superseding anything else as he wrapped his arms around Stark's neck and squeezed. He struggled under him for a moment before suddenly stopping and leveling him with a harsh glare.

"Strong man you are, right? Choking a man tied up. If I wasn't, I would-"

"You would what? You would do nothing."

"Is that what you think?" Stark choked out.

"That's what I know."

"Well then, you're an idiot." Stark replied, a twisted smile on his reddening face but he was moving under Theon's body, rubbing against him like he wanted to be touched.

Theon leaned down once more and pressed his lips to Stark's but he was not soft this time. This kiss was all gnashing teeth and harsh contact as Theon's hands slipped from Stark's neck to tangle in his hair and tug at the red-brown curls. Stark liked it this way, though he would never admit it. He liked when Theon was rough and unforgiving because that way he could pretend that this was all it was, a simple exchange due to their similar needs and desires. He could pretend he did not feel anything for him, that he did not love him because he shouldn't for many reasons and Theon should feel nothing in return. He would never say what he did feel was love, not to Stark or anyone else for that matter, but lust was something he could easily fall into and would not deny he felt with Stark.

He did not waste time with foreplay, that wasn't what either of them wanted and he was already hard anyway. He shoved himself back inside of Stark, relishing the choked off scream he let out against his lips. He slammed into him, the two previous times he'd fucked him that day and come inside of him providing enough lubrication. Stark pulled away from the kiss, throwing his head to the side as Theon mercilessly thrust into his already used body. Theon leaned down and bit into the exposed flesh of Stark's neck, to mark him up some more. Stark gave a particularly filthy moan, using his limited mobility to bounce up and down Theon's cock.

"Let me go." Stark rasped, nodding to his bound hand. His fingers were twitching towards Theon, wanting to touch him. He ignored the request and continued fucking him.

"Let me go. Let me go. Please, Theon, let me- ah!" Theon cut his pleas off as he adjusted his angle and started hitting Stark's prostate dead on.

"Fuck, fuck. Theon, uhn!" Stark babbled causing Theon to chuckle.

"Articulate." He quipped despite the physical exertion of fucking Stark this hard and holding in the way he wanted to moan and sing the praises of his warmth wrapped around him and his clenching muscles but he held it in nonetheless. That wasn't him and that wasn't what Stark wanted.

"I hate you." Stark responded to the joke. Theon rose an unimpressed eyebrow before planting his knees into the bed and thrusting harder into Stark, pressing into his prostate for a prolonged period of time so he could watch Stark squirm, tears coming to the corner of his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Okay, I love you. Gods, fuck, I love you. You were right, just don't stop." Stark groaned, writhing beneath him. A part of Theon worried about anyone finding out about that fact, especially his brothers. It wouldn't bode well for him or Stark. But most of him just wanted to fuck Stark until he physically couldn't anymore and so far nothing was stopping him, not even the tangled ball of hate and other things he wouldn't name that lay ever present in his stomach thanks to the heir of Winterfell. Gods, he wished his father never brought this boy to the Iron Islands. Theon didn't think he could ever let him leave now though.


End file.
